Sorry again for the long wait!
Im just now getting around to this because of life- it gets in the way sometimes.
Anyway, I hope that you enjoy
Alex awoke in a panic, sitting bolt upright in bed and gripping the gun that he had set on the bedside table. After a moment of surveying the room Alex visibly relaxed and tucked the gun into the waistband of his pocket.
Sean was still asleep and he didn't respond when Alex stood up, reaching for the room phone. He picked it up and was dialing Jack's mobile number when he noticed that there was no dial tone. Frustrated he put the phone back down and scribbled a note to Sean, telling him where he was and to stay in the room. He specifically told him not to open the door for anyone and if there was some sort of emergency before he was back, to go to the front office.
Alex left the note on the table where he thought Sean would see it and left the room in search of a pay phone or a place that might let him use their office phone for free. It was still dark out but the grey light of the sun could be seen rising above the jungle covered mountains that he and Sean had stumbled out of the day before.
As he worked his way further into the small resort town the nicer the buildings grew. Huge high rise condo buildings dominated street after street but the lights were off in the lobby and signed declared that they wouldn't be open until six. Alex had no idea what time it was.
Alex reached the street that ran parallel with the ocean and stopped, sitting on the sandy curb with his head in his hands. He stayed there for nearly ten minutes, trying to figure out what he was supposed to do with only a handful of local money, no connection with MI6 and a six year old that he was trying to keep alive.
Alex was so deeply engrossed in his thoughts that when a battered old pickup truck trundled up the road toward him, he barely spared it a glance. But as the truck lumbered up the avenue towards him Alex studied it again and upon his inspection, scrambled to his feet and made a dash toward the beach.
The truck jumped the curb behind him as Alex zigzagged across the beach, kicking up sprays of sand as he went. But even he obviously couldn't outrun a truck and it was soon behind him, then beside him. The passenger side door flew open and Alex caught a glimpse of Boss's face before he stopped running abruptly, letting the truck speed past him.
He turned and ran back in the direction that he had just come from, back toward the street, where hopefully there might be someone to help him.
Alex was halfway there when the truck caught up with him again and Boss reached out of the open doors, still firmly secured by the seatbelt. Alex grasped the gun and yanked it up, turning it to aim at Boss. But Boss was prepared and the gun was ripped out of Alex's hands as his arms were caught up in calloused hands and his kicking feet were pulled up off of the beach.
Alex braced his feet against the side of the seat and struggled to free himself of Boss' grip as the truck sped up again. Boss had a strong grip on Alex's upper arm and on the collar of his shirt and with a large heave he succeeded in pulling Alex the rest of the way into the car and slamming the door behind him.
Alex landed, sprawled awkwardly between the front and back seats of the car, his feet still in Boss's lap. The large man quickly was out of his seat and wrestled with Alex, finally succeeding in trapping his hands and cuffing them securely to the handle over the door.
Boss settled back into his seat and pulled out a phone, speaking in a clipped, annoyed tone.
"We've got the babysitter. Rider-" He began. "No, the boy wasn't with him- I don't know where he is. Yes, we'll keep looking for him. What am I doing with Rider?"
There was silence for a moment and then Boss nodded and hung up. Alex didn't like the look that Boss gave him; an odd mixture of pity and excitement. Alex knew that whatever had inspired such a look, could not be good news for him.
"Good morning, gentlemen."
The man speaking was large and muscular, standing at six foot four and probably weighing in at nearly 300 lbs. His sandy hair had been cut in a standard military crew cut and it suited his square, hard face perfectly.
"I am Sergeant Browns; I'm in charge of all the United Nations soldiers here in the Gaza Strip. I've received a phone call from a man called Blunt as well as orders from several of my superiors to aid you in any way that I am able." He spoke briskly, with a slight drawl in his voice. "So tell me, gents, what can I do for you?"
Browns leaned forward and pressed his palms into the metal table that divided them. His stare was intense and it was apparent that he was a man used to being obeyed by his lesser.
"We need men-" Ben began but he was cut short by Neil who stood up and leaned on the table, palms down, mirroring Sergeant Browns' own pose. They stared at each other for a moment before Neil spoke.
"We need a boat."
DUN DUN DUN DUNNNN!